Flashing back suddenly, in mid-conversation, to a mental picture: poolside, back at my childhood home, sitting next to my mother and watching Seth and his then-girlfriend, Cassie, horsing around in the water.  Cassie, physically, was something I could never be – tall.  She ran cross-country track and stood almost six feet tall, dwarfing my petite five-foot-three frame.

As my mother sat in the shade of the still-new, still-tacky royal blue patio umbrella, overweight from child-rearing and a past thyroid problem, taking in the scene, she leaned over close to me.

“Doesn’t it just kill you how thin Cassie is?” she lamented.  I couldn’t ascertain if she was attempting to commiserate with me or insult me.  Regardless of her motivation, the comment struck me like a sucker-punch to the stomach, leaving me speechless and marginalized.

The randomness of the memory struck a chord deep within me, as I began to wonder just how many moments like this one had transpired – key moments that I had overlooked or forgotten altogether.  I was left to wonder just how much I would begin to uncover about myself – and growing increasingly anxious about what the effects would be.

“Abby? Yo…” Samantha urged, pulling me out of my moment of enlightenment.  “Where did you go just now?”

“Um, nowhere,” I muttered, casually waving it off.  “Are you hungry at all?”

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